


Recovery

by faraandmera



Series: Pain-Verse [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor is Suffering bc of his crush, Gen, I don't know, Jared is TRYING, M/M, Some good old siblings being nice to each other content, but its pretty easy to skip bc the sections are connected, multiple small snippets of different moments, theres a second of this story dedicated to ocs that just mentions evan so sorry about that, these dont into Pain but i wanted to write them, this IS a oneshot i promise, this is what I did instead of writing the next chapter whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 11:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11417301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faraandmera/pseuds/faraandmera
Summary: Just some extra scenes that take place in the same universe as Pain.





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Version: http://faronisisioni.tumblr.com/post/162661447818/recovery

Zoe can vividly remember a time when she and her brother were fairly close. With an age difference of only slightly more than a year, they had gotten along well. She can remember wearing him down, until Connor allowed her to paint his nails, and how he subsequently started to  _like_ having painted nails. She can remember trips to the orchard with their parents, and him  _smiling_.

Then things went wrong, and she found herself scared- terrified- of him. She guarded herself with sarcastic responses and monotone insults, hoping if she appeared strong, then locking herself in her room would be enough to avoid him. That their parents would get him help so maybe, just maybe, she could have her brother back. Somebody had to be able to  _fix_ whatever broke, right?

She’s old enough, now, to know people can’t just be ‘ _fixed_.’ That help can only do so much for them, in the end. Zoe  _knows_ that her brother will never be the same kid who braided her hair, and grinned at her with a missing tooth. Part of her had nearly given up hope of ever seeing him really smile again. At most, he gave small smirks on occasion, but they were usually unamused and cold.

Except, recently, he’s been  _trying_ again. She’d long since seen him giving up on being anything but angry, and yet here he was. Trying. Holding back his anger better- not  _perfectly_ , but  _better_ \- and  _apologizing_ to her. He’d admitted knowing how bad he was. Zoe doesn’t think she can ever fully forgive him- sometimes she hears something from his room and her heart speeds up- but she feels like, just a little, her brother exists in there. The one that cared about her is still there, broken and beyond recognition nearly. But he’s  _there_.

So when Connor tells her he’s going to ask their parents if he can see a therapist- a warning in case she wants to avoid dinner that night- she wants them to say yes. She wants someone to help him. Because sure, he’ll never be ‘fixed,’ but he can get better. He can be  _happy_ again. She can feel better about growing attached to him again. Of enjoying having him around, again.

And when Larry says, “no,” and begins an argument, she gets angry. Connor needs help, everyone else can see that. Everyone else wants to give him that.  _He_ wants that. So she feels anger bubble up into her lungs. Zoe drops her fork, allowing it to loudly clank against the plate beneath it.

“Just let him see a therapist.” Zoe breathes out through her nose. “You should let him get help.”

Zoe glances shortly at Connor, and sees the surprise on his face. He looks much… younger. Hopeful even. As he stares at her, wide-eyed, she has to look away.

“He’s doing fine on his own.” Larry’s words draw her attention back, and she bites her lip. Cynthia, for her part, opens her mouth to argue. Zoe beats her to it, again.

“I’m just starting to feel safe at home again! Because you wouldn’t let him get help before. Even though he was getting  _worse_.” Zoe glances at Connor again. Sees her brother- can picture a five year old telling her that purple was his favourite colour with a large smile- staring back at her. In a split second of recognition, she reaches over, and places one of her hands on top of one of his. “Without help that could happen again. Why can’t you just let him try without dismissing it as trying to get attention, for once.”

Larry looks surprised, so say the least. Cynthia looks proud. Connor turns his hand over so he can grab Zoe’s, and there’s a solidarity to the moment she hasn’t felt in a very long time.

Larry relents, not long after that. When dinner is over- food left mostly untouched- Connor pulls her aside, and offers her a hug. Gives her every chance to reject it, too. She sighs, feigning annoyance, and wraps her arms around his torso.

“Thank you.”

She almost feels like she has her brother back, in that moment.

 

Alana knows she tends to talk a lot. At least, when she’s given the chance. Which, really, isn’t often. Most people cut her off or wont talk to her at all. Sometimes she feels that if she doesn’t force her way into people’s views, she’ll just disappear. 

So, she knows what she’s doing every time she talks to Evan. She  _knows_ , but she can’t make her mouth stop moving. Can’t make her voice stop. Finds herself doing the same thing to him that others do to her, because he lets her talk. Because she can, and because her brain-to-mouth filter finds no off switch.

She feels bad about it the second she walks away, but that doesn’t mean she can stop it from happening in the first place. She tells herself next time she wont do it. Tries not to. Yet, it keeps happening. She keeps going on and on about herself. Maybe if she seems impressive he wont forget her. Maybe  _somebody_ wont forget her.

As winter break approaches she takes on more and more tasks. More and more accomplishments. More and more chances for people to  _see_ her. Until her world goes black, and she’s told she passed out at school.

When she comes back, everyone is looking at her. Talking to her. Except… they don’t see her. Their interest is fleeting. They wont stay.

When Evan approaches her, its with a small, “ _Alana?_ ”

She responds, smiling immediately because that’s  _what she does_. Because it’s easy to hide behind. “Oh, Evan, Hello.” She nods, in acknowledgment. While she knows what’s coming, it still pains her when what he says- asks- is the same as every other person today.

“Are- uh, I just- How are you? I heard- I overheard that you passed out? I just- are you okay?”

“Oh,” Alana responds, smile faltering. Of course. She expected it, but somehow she’s still disappointed. “Yes, I’m alright, thank you. I guess I was just overdoing it, a bit, but I’m fine. Just needed a little rest.”

Evan nods, then her attention is pulled away by another student. The same question, her smile falling a little more. She can’t keep this up, she knows. Nobody sees her, no matter what she does. How long will their concern last, really? How many days until they forget her again? How much harder does she have to work?

The person- she doesn’t even know their name- leaves with well wishes. Alana is going to leave, too. Off to prepare for her next class. Instead, Evan speaks again. She thought he’d already left, yet there he is. “If you need help with anything, let me know.”

Alana knows she looks surprised when she faces him. It’s not that his words are all that surprising. Lots of people say that, but don’t mean it, and she has a hard time knowing what to say. Knowing how to thank them, when they aren’t even telling her the truth. Evan, though, sounds genuine. Looks  _worried_.

Looks at her. Not  _through_ her with vague notions about what happened to her. She’s talked his ear off enough that he must know how hard she works. There’s actual, real, concern on his face. Words nearly fail her, and she nods. “Thank you.”

Later that day, she gets similar wishes from one Zoe Murphy, and thinks, maybe, that there are people who see her.

 

When Noah comes up to Danielle, saying that he wants a bonsai tree, she is really surprised. Noah is fairly good at not asking for things he doesn’t plan on taking care of, and the hope in his eyes has her giving in pretty quickly. When he names it  _Evan_ , of all things, she realizes how much of an impact Evan had on the kids, in those few days.

“Can you take a picture of me with Evan Bon and send it to my brother?”

Danielle isn’t sure when Noah started calling Evan his brother, but she doesn’t question it. Noah must have really taken a liking to his half-brother. Part of her is upset- knowing this- that Joel doesn’t show any interest in his older son, while his kids do, but she pushes that aside. Still, she smiles, and nods, and ask Joel for Evan’s email so she can do it herself. She certainly isn’t about to leave it to Joel.

She doesn’t think much about asking if there’s a way for the kids to contact and talk to Evan. Danielle wants her kids to- at least- have the possibility of a relationship with their family. Even distant, or hard to reach family, like Evan. When Evan responds, easily giving her information and offering to arrange a time to talk to Mia and Noah, Danielle finds herself smiling.

Noah is excited, grinning from ear to ear. Mia seems confused, at first, asking why he cant just visit again, but seems happy either way.

And, after they finally get to have their skype call with Evan, the kids seem really happy. Danielle is happy, because they are.

She hopes this will keep up. Hopes that her kids can get to know their brother, despite him being in another state. Despite Joel not wanting to contact him.

“Next christmas we should get Evan a bonsai too! Or a cactus!”

“Evan pr- might not come here, next Christmas,” Danielle says, shaking her head. He probably wont, if his expression the last time she saw him was any indication. Or how tense he was the entire time he was here, especially around Joel.

“So? We can still give him gifts if he’s not here!”

Danielle laughs. “I guess so. I’ll see what we can do.”

She has good kids, she reminds herself. Nice, sweet children who deserve to be happy. And if they like Evan so much, then she wants him to be happy too. Though, she probably would want that anyway. He’d seemed like a good kid.

 

The more time passes, the more Jared comes to the realization that he, maybe, has been sort of a jerk. No, he  _already_ knew that. Not that he could stop himself- maintaining his persona was his only way of maintaining his sanity- but he  _could_ be significantly less of a jerk. Should try to be less of one.

Making jokes about Evan falling out of a tree stopped being funny really quickly when Evan told him the truth. It was like being hit with a truck from the  _guilt factory_  and being told this was just the surface level evidence. That there was probably more. That his oldest friend had been suffering while he made  _jokes_ about it. What does that do to someone?

Days later, he’s hit with another realization. For as long as they’d been friends, he’d wondered how Evan and Connor had become friends in the first place. It occurs to him, while he staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep, that maybe they were  _similar_. More than he realized before.

As well as that he’d never apologized. Not to Evan- he  _had_ apologized to him- but to  _Connor_. Connor who he’d called a  _freak_ on the first day of school. Connor who was his friend, now. Who wasn’t hesitant to respond to Jared’s asshole-ish actions with ones of his own. Connor, who was important to his closest friend and, honestly, himself.

It takes a while, to ask Connor to hang out with him and without the others. Connor had leveled him with a suspicious glare, but agreed.

That landed them in Jared’s room, playing video games.

“Alright, you never want to hang out with me, Kleinman, what going on?”

“Nothing. Dude, what do you take me for? If I was gonna fuck with you, I wouldn’t be so obvious about it.”

“Yes you would.”

“You got me, I’m here to prank you.” Jared rolls his eyes. “I was gonna knock you out, and paint your nails pink. A genius plan,  _ruined_.”

“Right, okay. So you’re  _not_ fucking with me?”

“No, man.” Jared sighs. “Look, I actually owe you… an… apology.”

“Had trouble getting that out, huh?”

 _“Look!_  I’m not great at this shit, okay. I bet you aren’t  _either_ , so don’t even start.”

“That’s fair.” Connor gives a dismissive shrug, and Jared makes an annoyed noise, throwing his hands up.

 _A+ apology, Jared, good job_. This was not going well. “Listen. I’m  _sorry_ for being an asshole.”

“Which time?”

“All the time!  _God_. I meant the beginning of the year, but honestly, just take it as a blanket apology if you want. I’m horrible, or whatever.”

“You… meant that, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did! I’m sorry, okay?”

“No, the last part.”

“Oh.” Jared sighs, shrugging. He  _had_. Not that he’ll admit that, but he had. Jared is well aware most people don’t like him, it’s part of an endless cycle of him making himself into more of an asshole. He says something dumb, people dislike him, he says something  _more_ dumb to try and regain favor and attention, they continue to dislike him. A really  _great_ method,  _truly_ , the sarcastic part of his mind thinks.

“You’re not… the worst person I know,” Connor offers, and Jared laughs. Of course that would be what Connor says. Neither of them are very good at this, Jared thinks.

“Thanks, dude. You’re not the worst person I know either.”

“So was that it?”

“No I really did wanna kick your ass at video games.”

“Your ass is the one that is going to be kicked.”

“We’ll see about that.”

 

Connor has a surprisingly high number of followers for someone who posts weed jokes and rants about his best friend. He supposes most of them followed for his art, though he’s not sure if it’s worth the number he has. So, when he gets a message, he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is. Still, he opens his inbox, confused.

_“with all the ranting about him its sorta hard not to ship u with your friend. I bet youd be so cute together~!”_

Connor stares at the message, and stares, and stares. Then he screams into a pillow. “Fuck you, what do you know?!”

Then he posts a response, and goes in search of something to draw on.

_“cute is not the word i would use. Not gonna happen anyway. thanks tho.”_

Connor finds himself drawing another picture of Evan. Because of- fucking- course he does. Somehow he’s still disappointed in himself, despite expecting that it would happen.

It takes two days before he’s happy with the drawing, which he posts with a pretty simple caption.

_look at this pretty boy. what an asshole. unfair._

An hour later, he gets another anonymous ask.

_“ur just making us ship it more!!”_

Connor screams again. Zoe knocks on his door to ask him if he’s okay, to which he ignores her. He’s  _perfectly fine_. Screaming because people are torturing you with the mental image of dating your crush is perfectly normal, okay?

_“why do you guys hate me. im suffering enough on my own.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yeah, there really wasn't a place for this in Pain, because that's from Evan's perspective, so here's this.
> 
> Significantly less edited than the story proper, so if you notice a mistake please feel free to point it out to me.
> 
> sorry my tags are a mess im tired my dude


End file.
